30 T HE ..... H i +,' - e1 rl ; . "" / .};/ A o I j'Ä I- .' · -- ø ! ""I\ ". " t ,A ;(11 t II i '!' fi JJ t l "I" ' JUST AROUND POOH CORNER ...... x ,::,,: ",. ,U@ , ,.i,t..,'-",.'... J,.},- , , 0/>. ...., . '.' n '.' + ,...... ' .... .... " f i i :>$ 4 . .ffi. .,' :.... . . ;.... < < ;! ;;: \rn'; \. \ i 't ., .,jf . ' ,. >, .... ! :/s,:'1 t'i<i, /' j I( , : ' j}! "'"-l\ i Jì ':( j . '<I, :J \\ i > . :rJf' \ t % n t. .JJ " " , , : . , . : ,, : ,, . : : , : :: . : , : , ; :, . , : , ' , : , . , . , : . , ; , . . . , : , . , , ! , r , , ! , .^' , ' : . , . :. . . ' . ; : . ,. ' . : :: . . ' . . ,. . , : :: ; ,. ; . \ , : , : . ) , :,: " J . .... . .K...". , . ., ..,- f . llJ' 1Å.i i'i,filt: ' ' , . , i . .Ili.: 'J' 1 1 . ,. f' l . ' .: <ii!,t' t!., {,: y f ';t q ' ( All :, ; <L I N a shifting, sliding world, it is something to know that Mr. A. .L-\. ("Whimsy-the-Pooh") Milne stands steady. He may, tease that he is, delude us into thinking for a while that he has changed; that we are all grown up now, and so he may be del- icately bitter and even a little pleasur- ably weary, in front of us; and then, suddenly as the roguish sun darting from the cloud, or the little crocus popping into bloom, or the ton of coal ,,:f,:;:: ø;f:: ';: ,*" j . Jtil:: :::\:; , if .$: :":, , : "f;. ...... ,tr << ,', .... &..... )Iw: :k ':;'!:::... . .... .;:::..... :. ':=:':" -: ::; : }. :.>-.. : :';!";' ,:,., fw' f " ' :"" .: <' .,' ',: -:0;;:;' .," :,:,,::::<\: :.; : ..:. , , i f& f flee! .. i': .! f. :$ ,. : . '. i. *:' clattering down the chute, he is our own Christopher Robin again, and everything js hippity-hoppity as of old. I lay no claim to any gift of clair- voyance, but when I saw by the an- ticipatory press that the title .of Mr. Milne's new play had been changed f " s " " G " M Y rom uccess to Ive e ester- day," I knew all. My dearest dread is the word "yesterday" in the name of a play; for I know that sometime during the evening I am going to be .f4 51 ì i"J ì. 1:/ í i,. ' :n """ " I\ ":" :: ' } ":; ,0 ì ' :.(: ": /. ((Geez, I put rrty rubbers on i1 stead of my sandals!" MARCH 1+, 1931 transported, albeit kicking and scream- ing, back to the scenes and the costumes of a tenderer time. And I know, who show these scars to you, what the writ- ing and the acting of those episodes of tenderer times are going to be like. I was not wrong, heaven help me, in my pre-vision of the Milne work. Its hero is caused, by a novel device, to fall asleep and a-dream; and thus he is given yesterday. Me, I should have given him twenty years to life. " G IVE ME YEsTERDAY" (To Re- member You By) opens in the sunlit drawing-room of the Cavendish Square house of one of those cabinet ministers. The cabinet minister is, like Mélisande, not happy; his wife is proud, cold, and ambitious; his daughter is a Bright Young Thing; his son has gone Socialist; and, to crown all, it is rumor- ed that Mowbrey is to be appoInted to the coveted position of Chancellor of the Exchequer. "Ah," I said to my- self, for I love a responsive audience, "so it's one of those plays. All right, it's one of those plays.. At least we shall ha ve no Christopher Robins cocking their heads on the lawn." For a mo- ment, you see, I had forgotten the title, and hope tormented me. Well.. At the end of the first act, the cabinet minister is leaning back in a chintz-covered wing chair, conning the speech he is to deliver in Yorkshire, and murmuring drowsily, "The place of my boyhood.. Ah, happy days, happy, happy days." Then I knew we were all gone. In the second act, the cabinet min- ister has made that speech, and is, for the night, back in the little bedroom in Yorkshire where, as a boy, he had spent the nights of his holidays. It ap- , pears that hjs boyhood sweetheart, Sally,-called, by Mr. Louis Calhern, who has gone British or something, "Selly," just as he says, and as yearn- ingly, "heppy,"-had used to occupy the adjoining room, and he had had a nasty habit of tapping on the wall be- tween, to communicate with her.. The code was not essentially difficult. There f "" f " b " d was one tap or a, two or , an so on. I ask you, kind reader, but to bear this in mind for rougher times. T HE cabinet minister stretches him- self out on his old bed, and slips picturesquely to slumber. Dark- ness spreads softly over the stage, save for a gentle blue beam on Mr. Calhern. Music quivers; then come lights. Then there appear two-not one, but two-